Moonspell
by HapaDoll
Summary: Morgan Connor is from Rockport; a coastal MA town known for the ghost town of Dogtown, the "Witches of Dogtown", and its werewolf lore. Lesser known is the Connor family—cursed by witches in 1831. When Reid and Tyler inadvertently open a supernatural can of worms there, she heads to Ipswich in an attempt to reverse the ancient dark magic that affects her bloodline. ReidღOCღTyler
1. Silver Lights

**MOONSPELL**

 **Rating 》 T-M for Profanity, Adult Situations, Violence and Sexual Content**

 **Pairing** **》 Major Reid/OC & Minor Tyler/OC**

 **Disclaimer 》 Fandoms, canons, music, references and source material are not mine, but this plot is. No monetary profit made.**

 **Author's Note 》 For fanart, fanmixes and fanvids, go to** **hapadoll,wixsite,com** **/hapadoll (replace , with . )**

* * *

 **1\. Silver Lights**

* * *

There was something in the sound of rushing waters against the eerie quiet that had always filled the handsome blond with a sense of comfort. All thoughts and worries melted away and he was able to experience the serenity that existed beneath the turbulent internal dialogue of his mind.

It was then, while he was busy imagining the crests of miniature waves of gasoline crashing against the plastic walls of the tank into a flammable ocean, that stiffness trickled down from his shoulders through his hunched spine. With a chill, he felt the unmistakable icy gleam of an unfamiliar stare fall upon his exposed neck.

Other than himself and the Hummer parked in it, the lot was dead empty. Deserted as the dimly lit street it sat on. While scanning the surrounding woodland edge for life, he quietly settled the gas pump back into its cradle, abandoning the receipt next to it.

Everything was still except for his careful footsteps, deadened by the light snowfall on the ground as he circled the SUV. Clearing every corner and hidden angle until he stopped directly to its front, facing the hood. For a bare second he foolishly wondered to check under the car, but didn't want to be caught with his pants down in a fight. If he was about to be attacked, he was going to be ready for it, not rushed from behind. His eyes bled black as he sent a simple locating spell out. When they returned to their natural lighter hue, it was confirmed there was nothing of alarm existing in his proximity.

Though he hadn't heard a sound or seen a thing, Reid couldn't shake the distinct sense that he was being watched. The feeling was nearly tangible, like a living creature. As if a lightning storm was brewing because you could feel the static in the air. The unrest that refused to settle away in his gut was the 'fight or flight' response kicking in, ready for action.

After the unresolved incident with Chase, everybody was on high alert for good reason. It was unlikely the powerful warlock had stumbled away only to later succumb to his injuries, though they'd all been naively hopeful that was exactly the case. The constant uncertainty was like having testified against a dangerous criminal who was now escaped and knows where you live.

An unexpected beam of pure white light seeped inside his abruptly closed eyelids, overwhelming his vision and distorting his field of view completely. The night's quiet was shattered by the powerful roar of a familiar V8 engine coming alive. Upon instinct, he held up his left hand—fingertips exposed from the knit glove that covered it—like a half visor so that it shielded his upper face from the merciless high beams while he moved out of its illuminated path.

Reid opened his eyes when he was able to. Pale blue and dilated. He bit back a curse as they readjusted and fell upon Tyler's badly acted oblivious face which came into focus only a little spotty. Stupid remote start.

Though he was youngest of their group and generally regarded as the most mild mannered, Tyler wasn't exactly above being a dick at times. It was something he undoubtedly picked up from his older 'brothers' as the baby learning to fight back. Unfortunately for him, he was still too sincere to ever get away with the most important part of any prank; the denying part. He'd always been garbage at lying. Totally transparent.

"Dumbass. Get in the car Baby Boy," ordered Reid, capping the gas tank before closing the little door over it.

Tyler grinned at the hilarious stone cold fact that Reid could only ever be a good sport if he were the prankster, never on the receiving end. He can dish it out but he can't take it; the narcissist's dilemma.

"Yes massa. Whatever you say massa," a mocking Tyler responded in his deep voice, rougher yet from a recent cold he'd been rebounding from. It was that season, making its rounds.

The younger Son stashed the 18-pack he'd been carrying into the backseat, pushing items out of the way to make the rectangular box lay flat. He kept meaning to clean the car out. The plastic grocery bag came up front with them to the passenger side so he could crack into the iced tea that had been nestled between the two bottles of hard liquor. Tyler satisfied the irritation in his throat with a generous sip from the blue can, brightly decorated with cherry blossoms before directing a question to his aggravated friend.

"What were you doing anyway? It's freezing out there. And was that you who Used?"

Tyler's observation of the weather an afterthought more to himself. The questions hung in the air unanswered. For a few moments, Reid drove in silence as he focused on pulling back to the main road without sliding over the black ice.

Reid figured a uneasy 'feeling' didn't warrant worrying his friend unnecessarily.

"Trying to get a quick cigarette if that's okay with you, _Surgeon General_ ," came the blond's curt reply, late but still relevant. "And yes, I needed a light."

Another rhetorical Reid remark you didn't question further. Tyler cleared his throat and rolled his blue eyes to the ceiling. He set his drink in the center console to free up his hands so they could undo the scarf around his neck. He adjusted his seating arrangement into something more comfortable, laying the bottles of alcohol to the floor near his feet as a bumper to keep them from rolling around like breakable liquid bowling balls.

"You were taking forever with your cougar woman and I know how you get about smoke in your precious car," Reid added, damn near effortless at lying due to his inclusion of some truth.

From the driver's seat, he eyeballed the drink in the cup holder. A bead of condensation dribbled down the can from the heat blowing out of the vents as it swirled invisibly around them, dispersing warmth throughout the large cabin.

"Coming from the guy who won't even drive his Beamer because he's too afraid to scratch it again," Tyler was quick to point out.

The younger brother brushed his spiked hair back in place and addressed Reid's stab at the little crush Lucy Hayes had on him. The crush that allowed him to purchase liquor without identification, albeit thirty minutes away in Rockport. It was worth the drive, though it was out in the middle of nowhere. His friend just hated that any female preferred her men young, brunette and not named Reid.

Reid scoffed and picked up the tall aluminum can, stealing a sip of the cool beverage, unconcerned about passing any illness on to himself. It slid down his throat like silk. In between mouthfuls, he boasted of a killer immune system.

Something in the rear-view mirror caught his eye about a quarter mile back in the distance: strange, pulsating lights past the tree line. They weren't headlights, that much was certain. The mostly lightless stretch of roadway was void of traffic for quite a ways in both directions when he'd last checked. Then he realized the sparks were soaring from right about where they'd just been parked minutes earlier.

The distraction lowered his response time when they suddenly hit a sheet of ice. Not packed snow or frost, but pure ice. The rear tires immediately lost traction and the car began fishtailing sideways. Reid's focus diverted back to the road ahead of them, where it should have been.

"Reid," warned Tyler while his friend struggled with the wheel.

The handsome brunette braced himself against the dash so he didn't break his neck if they spun out completely from the speed they'd been traveling at. The driver instinctively removed his foot from the pedals and turned into the slide just enough to correct it. Having driven in many a New England winter, Reid knew enough not to touch either the gas or brake if he didn't fully have control of the vehicle.

When they safely recovered from the nerve-racking skid, Tyler broke the silence with a deep breath of relief and an alarmingly on-topic remark.

"I'm glad you feel comfortable enough to drive like a maniac in mine though," Tyler chuckled, only half-joking to lighten the mood though he was still working to calm his pulse back to a normal pace.

Reid wet his lips and sucked in air, internally reminding himself yet again that there was a logical explanation for what he'd just seen. Not that he questioned his sanity, because he knew he'd seen _something_ , but he decided to believe it had nothing to do with the covenant, magic, Chase or anything of a supernatural origin.

"My bad, buddy. I took my eyes off the road for a split second," Reid apologized, though his eyes still flickered up like a magnet with a constant pull in spite of their close call.

" _What_ Reid? What are you looking at? Did you see something?" asked a concerned Tyler, looking and looking back again with his whole body.

"No, just checking—" Reid started, his denial abruptly cut short in its tracks when another silver light flashed up and lit the woods behind them.

As if a firework exploded up into an aerial before it split apart into two or three other lights and fell back into the trees. Each light now less brilliant, each muted in intensity, but all remained glowing somewhere within the dense forest where they landed.

Tyler's head remained fully turned. For several long moments, the young brunette did not speak aloud, though his mind was running a mile a minute, not sure where to begin at grasping for straws. His boyish features were incredulous and glued to the strange landscape in front of him, a clear hint that whatever Reid was seeing, he was as well.

"You see that, right?" Reid questioned, looking for verbal confirmation.

But the other boy didn't answer directly as Reid had hoped. Instead, the bewilderment seemed to grow inside Tyler, and he knew that he would never be able to make logical sense of what he was seeing or share this experience with anybody without them thinking he was a bit unstable.

His dumbfounded response came in the form of the only inquiry he could croak out, "what _is_ that?"

"You can't answer my question with a question," mumbled Reid, tightening his hands on the wheel, battling the urge to pull off to the shoulder or flip a u-turn so he could get a better look.

And then there was a big gust of wind. The cold and cleansing kind that cleared everything away. And it was gone.

* * *

" _Phosphorescent orange light, circular in shape and moving at a great speed in a seemingly straight-line course_."

" _Shiny body flying from north to south. Field glasses are at hand. It is a huge body. One side glows in the sun. It is oval in shape. Then it somehow turns in another direction and disappears in the southwest._ "

" _Very bright sphere, much like a large reflective mirrored ball, like an oversized ball bearing._ "

Chrome had its work cut out for it. The browser must have had twenty tabs open on the laptop. All varied supposed first hand accounts and detailed descriptions of UFO sightings across the world spanning decades. The United States alone was littered with the otherworldly claims from Bangor to Honolulu. Interestingly enough, there was a fair amount over the east coast. At the time, both boys had been quick to claim UFO. Though they hadn't actually seen a standout feature such as an _object_ , the unexplained lights screamed extraterrestrial.

"This is bull-crap..." Tyler spoke his thoughts aloud, his brows knitted together like someone expecting an oncoming migraine. "None of these are even consistent."

He scratched his head in confusion and kept on thinking, trying to piece something together that may have been missed in the hustle and bustle of the day before. He was hopeful that reiterating these accounts out loud might help him find a way to connect the dots and link it to whatever it was they'd seen the other night.

" _Descriptions of UFOs have ranged from glowing wheels to colored balls of light to cigar, disk, or crescent shaped objects. One of the first well documented UFO sightings occurred in 156_ _1_ —"

"Holy shit," Reid interrupted from his hovering position behind him.

" _in Nuremberg, Germany_ ," Tyler didn't skip a beat. " _A broadsheet published that year describes red, blue, and black balls or plates, crosses, and tubes that appeared to battle each other in the sky over the city_."

The internet used to be a virtual haven of information for Tyler, offering solutions to every imaginable problem. Understanding to every concept. Every question has an answer, every cause an affect. Every mystery has a factual, verifiable solution. A key. They had to find that key or sleep would elude him for another night. It was the same for Reid with his own unrest at the other end of the room the past couple of nights. With classes starting back up tomorrow, it wasn't an option either of them could afford.

However, Tyler was starting to feel claustrophobic hemmed in by his own thoughts. Having only half a foot of clearance between his face and the screen in front of him, he roughly falls back into his computer chair with a firm bounce. He rubs his dry and cracked palms over his tired face, willing the stress to leave with the soothing gesture.

Tyler could feel his best friend's body heat on his left shoulder. Reading through the pages of text over it. Impatient to highlight the parts he wanted. Being overcrowded was not something Tyler found to be very comfortable with. Reid, with his sense of entitlement had no awareness of personal space or boundaries at times. Definitely no boundaries.

"Come on, man, I can't think with you breathing down my neck like that," howled Tyler. "You're blocking my light. Give me some space."

Instead of backing off as he'd been asked to, Reid rolled the younger man out of the way with a dismissive push and moved to kneel in front of the desk, taking over the space.

"My turn."

The initial sensation of general unease Reid had felt at the gas station still resonating as his fingers pecked the keyboard in a new search. Tyler dragged himself back by using his bare feet as anchors and swatted at the blond's head, lifting a part of his beanie with it.

"Don't fuck up my hair, come on," Reid huffed absentmindedly as he adjusted it single-handedly in the literal sense.

The other hand was all but glued to the external wireless mouse while he scrolled through the results with a purpose. Until he came across a website that caught his eye four pages in. The only one so far that seemed moderately relevant or wasn't a tourist's review of a local business.

Shadowlands Haunted Places Index - Massachusetts

So much for debunking the belief that it was supernatural in origin. The link opened to one extremely long page of text.

"Reid," started Tyler, guilty now himself of reading over shoulders. "How the hell are we supposed to sift through all of that? There's a thousand stories here, statewide and it looks like they're all random."

The star on the navigation toolbar highlighted blue as Reid bookmarked the page to save for later. He threw together an incomplete email with no subject, just to send the link to himself so he could pull it up on his phone another time when he was more available to binge. It seemed like a decent resource to start with and he wouldn't have to continue fighting Tyler for the computer. Two heads were better than one anyway. They didn't need to be on top of one another, agitating each other. The lack of sleep couldn't be helpful either.

"Later. We'll deal with it later," Reid decided. "Come on Baby Boy let's go. We're already late to meet the guys anyway."

Caleb had already checked up via text to see where the two of them were at. Reid initially gave him a cryptic status update, some bullshit excuse about not rushing perfection. Then he shifted the blame to Tyler's alleged moving at grandma-in-a-walker speed, but when it started going back and forth too much for his liking, he ignored Caleb mid-conversation, abandoning it altogether. He was sure the eldest Covenant member was already nice and irritated with them. Usually it was his favorite mood to put Caleb in, but he and Tyler were both too exhausted to argue, to feel angry even. Besides, he had a strong suspicion it wouldn't do any good anyway.

* * *

Spring break had come and gone and mid-March was finally upon them, but it certainly didn't feel like spring in northeastern Massachusetts. The entire eastern portion of the U.S. getting hit with a late winter, leaving their recent break feeling more like Christmas vacation.

Caleb had detached himself from the close-knit group for the first time in recent years much to the disappointment of the other three and instead elected to stay behind with Sarah. Almost five months together since October seemed a bit overdue to meet the parents. He felt it was an important step in their relationship that he become acquainted with the people who'd brought up such a remarkable human being that he was crazy about. They'd spent their time off in inner-city Boston where his girlfriend called home and he didn't regret his decision. Though her father still needed a bit of winning over.

In his absence, the remaining three Sons carried on their annual 'bro' trip tradition. This year to the 'Gambling Capital of the World' as well as Nevada's. Though none of the young men were quite old enough to fully enjoy some of the more favorable aspects Sin City boasted. They returned home rubbing everything Caleb missed in his face.

Kate was currently busy at the mouth with an animated anecdote of her own vacation in south Florida. It was the best place she could have vacationed to effectively get under her on-again, off-again boyfriend's skin. Her wildest moments were vividly recounted whenever he was within earshot in the noisy bar. Though the not-so-subtle way she worked it into the conversation seemed glaringly out of place.

"While I was in Daytona, I drunkenly stumbled upon a bikini booty shaking dance contest on the beach. And of course I entered and won! I barely even remembered it until I found all this money the next day."

Not the response Kate hoped to elicit, Pogue walked away, pulling Caleb over to the bar's countertop with him. The older boy grinned sheepishly, embarrassed for the girl due to her obvious display. Kate could be a sweet girl when she wanted to, and she was undoubtedly a good friend to Sarah, but she had another side that compelled you to bow down to hail the queen of pettiness.

"Listen, don't let it get to you. You know she's just trying to make you feel bad for going to Vegas with the boys."

Pogue made a face that reeked of distress, concern and regret which lingered a few moments across his charming features. That actually wasn't what he pulled Caleb aside for. But now that he broached the subject, he would likely not hear an end to the Vegas thing anytime soon. An uncomfortable Kate had already voiced the concerns she had of him going to such a hard party destination in the first place. But the fact that he was going with _Reid_ , _without_ Caleb really pushed the matter over the edge and off a cliff into a ravine. Though he'd gone to great lengths to reassure her, he'd still gone in spite of her discomfort, eager to spend bonding time with his unofficial brothers. It may not have been the most selfless choice on his part and maybe it wasn't fair to her, but the girl really had a knack for pulling an extraordinary amount of guilt out of a person.

"Easy for you to say from your 'good boyfriend' tower, you actually spent break with _your_ girlfriend," reflected Pogue, now second guessing his decision though it was hindsight.

Caleb gave a sympathetic smile, said, "sorry, it'll blow over. It always does," and nodded towards a parting in the line where they could order drinks.

Pogue grimaced. That was the thing—there's always something _to_ blow over with Kate. Pogue was sure he'd never love another person the way he loved her, but he couldn't go on in this back and forth endless cycle of breakups and makeups. While it made for mind blowing sex, once it happens a few times it can really mess with a guy's head. The more he felt bad or guilty, the more he ended up resenting her and that definitely wasn't fair to her because of his own insecurities. It was a serious conversation they needed to have at some point and he was hopeful that they could restore their relationship to a healthy one. Tonight wasn't the right time so he shifted his thoughts to his original observation and addressed it to Caleb.

"What's up with those two fools?" Pogue nodded towards the rare group of four, all seated at a table together. The two younger boys with the rest of the group instead of swindling Aaron in a game of pool.

"They're just sitting there listening to Kate gossip about who wore it best, who has the best tan lines and who puked least. Even Sarah's looking over here like she's trying to flash us the bat-signal," added Pogue.

While the elder laughed good-naturedly and sent a small wave of reassurance to his girlfriend, she returned the gesture with a look that said, "you're not getting out of this if I'm not". He took that as his cue to rejoin them with a round of sodas on hand, leaving Pogue with a final comment.

"Drunk, half-naked girls on spring break? Of course they're going to be interested."

Pogue was not so convinced and laughed out loud, saying, "huh, yeah, maybe".

Caleb had been heavily preoccupied with Sarah last Friday. He didn't see Reid and Tyler's entry when they walked into the party looking like they'd just been mugged. Both had been acting a little off that night. Reid was less confident, Tyler less friendly. They even left early, _without_ the company of a female or two. And tonight they turned up looking like matching zombies.

In their immediate group, Caleb was usually the one who over-analyzed everything including life itself. Although lately, their uptight brother seemed a lot less high-strung. Maybe it had to do with how close he'd come to losing his love or the fact that she knew his deepest secret and that somehow unlocked the invisible chains he wore over his chest.

A part of him envied Caleb for being able to share that part of his life with Sarah after dating only a few weeks, while he had to hide it from his girlfriend of nearly two years. Like it was some dark enigma he should be ashamed of. Though in reality it _was_ a curse, it was still part of who he was. He hated pretending to be somebody he could never be. It was something he didn't feel right confiding in Caleb about, because he didn't want to bring down his friend's new happiness. All he knew was he could not _wait_ for Tyler and Reid to have serious relationships so he had somebody who understood his inner conflict.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Thanks for reading!**


	2. Like a Charm

**Moonspell**

 **Rating 》 T-M for Profanity, Adult Situations, Violence and Sexual Content**

 **Pairing** **》 Major Reid/OC & Minor Tyler/OC**

 **Disclaimer 》 Fandoms, canons, music, references and source material are not mine, but this plot is. No monetary profit made.**

 **Author's Note 》 For fanart, fanmixes and fanvids, go to hapadoll,wixsite,com** **/hapadoll (replace , with . )**

* * *

 **2\. Like a Charm**

* * *

Classes resumed and daily life fell back into its normal routine. Any leisure or tranquility of recess became nothing more than memories fading like the tan built up from a sunshine vacation in the tropics. The unforgiving amounts of assignments, tests and projects started early as expected—without bothering to ease gently back in or slow down to explain things. As if they'd never been away from the drudgery and bustle of preparatory school life.

As seniors, Caleb and Pogue were on the home stretch to graduation—the day they'd been both anticipating and dreading in equal amounts. They had prepared for this moment over the past four glorious years of high school. It was creeping up on them like a person's shadow on a sunny day. Faithful and absolute. Each passing day brought them another one closer to the inevitable. It would arrive, marked and circled in red on their calendars and their futures would be upon them. Soon they'd be headed off to the real world where there wouldn't be that bell to summon them to class or the cafeteria to provide them with healthy meal choices.

The underclassmen of the group were simply hanging on, trying to make it to summer when school would be out, days would be longer and the weather would be the kind of perfect that keeps you awake at night thinking about changing your life goals. They still had time to dream and fantasize about all the things they'd like to do or become before making actual, definitive decisions that would affect the path their lives take.

"I'm siiick," Reid complained, drawing out the vowel as he dropped his hydro flask onto the table and unceremoniously wedged himself between Pogue and Sarah. He pointed his chin towards Tyler, who was mid-bite in his chicken-pesto sandwich, "This is your fault."

"Excuse your ugly face?" Tyler retaliated, proceeding to quote from a recent conversation. "'I'm Reid. I have the immune system of a superhero. I will destroy cooties.'"

Reid bit his tongue, choosing to turn the other cheek to the insult. He disregarded the mocking in his friend's voice for no reason other than his throat was sore. So sore that it hurt to speak. Every time he opened his mouth, air hit the back of his throat, rubbing it raw. To combat this discomfort, he chose silence. Only speaking selectively upon what he deemed to be of importance.

"Normally I do, but lack of sleep compromised my ability to fight off your germs."

During their all-nighter of research the previous Sunday, Reid made the mistake of laying down in bed for what he swore was only a _moment_. He was doomed the second his head hit the pillow.

Tyler hadn't fared better or made it much further between head drops at his desk before he too crawled under the covers, letting sleep claim him at last.

The next thing they both knew, they were jolted awake by a cacophony of bells and alarms from their phones signaling the arrival of morning. Too soon like an insensitive, bad joke about a current disaster.

Luckily for them, the rest of the hellish week back followed suit and a new weekend came just as quickly to replace the one prior. It would give them a chance to catch up on some much needed and well deserved sleep as well as the enormous workload and the mountain of homework that came along with it.

"That's just a silly old wives' tale our grandmas told us to get us to do shit we didn't want to. Like wear a jacket so you don't catch a chill—" Tyler argued, before he was interrupted by Pogue.

"Eat carrots to improve your eyesight."

"Drink milk so you grow big and strong," was Caleb's contribution to the argument against Reid.

Kate's harmonic voice cut into the boys' musings as she dropped some knowledge on the lot of them, backing herself with a little science.

"I'm pretty sure there's actual scientific proven fact behind some of those."

"My grandma used to say to apply perfume to your wrists so you always smell good," Sarah added, feeling left out.

The conversation rolled to a stop and the whole of the group turned to look at her with an assortment of questioning, amused expressions. She shrugged her shoulders as if she hadn't just spewed stupidity from that cute mouth of hers. With her eyes, she silently expressed gratitude to Reid for chiming in with his rough voice to break the awkward silence with the mention of Grandma Garwin; His paternal grandmother who shared her first name.

It always made her laugh to think about their first interaction when the so-called 'ladies-man' of Spencer used such a disastrous pick-up line on her. Yet in spite of a such a blunder, he still somehow got more ass on a regular basis than a Taco Bell bathroom.

His closest friends had come to know that he actually had an exceptional personality at his core, but he presented a warped and distorted version of it to his peers. It was a rarity to catch a glimpse of him beneath the superficial layers of arrogance and pompousness. It was almost as rare and magical as a unicorn sighting.

"Well, GG has never been wrong in her seventy-two years of existence and I don't think she'd start letting me down now."

Kate blatantly rolled her dark, expressive eyes at their friend's melodramatic behavior for the others to see, giving them one last laugh before smiling angelically at the prettier blonde between the two, who was perfectly content being wrapped up in Caleb's arms like a teddy bear.

"I can't believe it's already Friday," squealed Kate, excitement apparent on her breath.

Sarah made an involuntary noise, showing her concurrence on the happier subject.

Kate continued and extended the conversation to the rest, asking, "What's everyone's plans?".

Pogue was the one to answer his girlfriend, though they'd already touched on it earlier that day.

"There's not really anything going on this weekend. Everyone's kind of recovering from the giant ass-kick that is Spencer's 'welcome back'," he laughed sardonically, not looking forward to his upcoming Computer Science project.

"Good, I won't be missing out," muttered Reid, still sulking and sucking down water like a camel at an oasis.

It was grade school bully mentality. He couldn't have any fun, so he didn't want anyone else to have fun either. As if he would be happy to have the rest of the world outside of his own be just as miserable as was.

Tyler ignored the dark cloud that threatneed to creep in, and threw a more positive suggestion into the air in case anyone else was itching to do something like he was. Last weekend had been a weird one on top of a let down. He felt like he had missed out on most of it, because of the funk that unexplained night put him in. It'd been weighing on him all week, but school was surprisingly a welcomed distraction. A little relaxation to clear his head and reset his mind seemed like a good remedy for the stress and anxiety he'd been feeling.

"We could just have a chill night at Nicky's, nothing crazy."

It seemed to sound good to the group who agreed upon their collective Friday night plans, piping in with their opinions. All except for Reid.

"You're staying in then?"

"Fuck yes."

Tyler knew well enough by now that with Reid—the wildcard—Garwin, it was always a good idea to double check just to be sure. A part of him was dispirited that his partner-in-crime would have to sit this one out. Reid's outgoing, life of the party personality pulled the extrovert out of him. The blond's propensity for initiating conversation and meeting new people was one of the things he admired about his fearless friend. Tyler was able to socialize more easily when Reid broke the ice.

If anything, at least it'd be a good opportunity for their tight knit group to socialize within itself. Their time together was limited after all.

* * *

The group of friends met up a little later than their agreed upon hour, only to end up spending the majority of their time together gazing down at their phones, taking selfies and 'checking in' for all their not-so-close friends on social media. Tyler reflected back on life before smartphones when you had to just sit there and socialize with people face to face and work to maintain actual relationships.

In just a few months, two of his best friends would be moving away. He knew that they would never completely lose touch. Because they've grown up together, their bond was stronger than friendship. They knew each other's good and bad sides, quirks, idiosyncrasies—stuff nobody else knew. They have confronted one another on sensitive subjects that bothered them about the other person's actions and questioned each other's poor decisions. They may have had fallings out over the years, but they _always_ came back from it stronger, never weaker. They have always seen each other through the hardships and the arguments without any feelings of disgust or disillusionment.

But soon the most they would see of each other for the next several years would be behind the screen of a computer—unless they all stayed in the Cambridge-Boston area. Either way, he wasn't ready to do that just yet. Their dynamic was _going_ to change, whether he liked it or not, but he was determined to enjoy every moment prior to their departure.

"We're playing Phone Stack!"

Tyler made the decision and everyone's phones were begrudgingly placed into a neat little stack in the middle of the table before they could protest too much.

"Whoever grabs their phone first has to pay the tab," he explained.

"Damn. I only have a twenty on me," groaned Kate, knowing she'd end up footing the bill.

"Don't throw in the towel yet, babe. Baby Boy's right. We can disconnect ourselves from technology for a few hours and reconnect with each other."

"I totally agree with them. I don't even care for social media," Caleb chuckled.

"We know! You're an online hermit."

"Thanks, Kate."

Caleb's lack of presence on social media was a running topic his brothers liked to give him a hard time about. Even his own girlfriend joined in every now and then, wishing that he'd proudly display a picture of the two of them for everybody to see like a badge of honor. It bothered her to think of their soon to be long-distance relationship scenario where he'd be away in a new pool of girls who didn't know that he was hers. Sarah pushed her irrational insecurities aside for the moment and giggled at the exchange before her.

"I'm in," Sarah raised her hands in surrender and added, "Everyone that matters is right here anyway."

She corrected herself after a moment.

"Minus Reid. Poor guy. I feel bad that he's so sick, but is it awful that I also think it's a little funny how much of a giant baby he's being about a simple cold?"

The five of them took turns good-naturedly ragging on their friend in question, but the discussion took on a more serious note as the topic shifted to his inability to be monogamous or maintain a healthy relationship. They'd all thought it at one point or another, but they were glad someone had said it aloud. Each person had their own opinion regarding the lifestyle he chose, but the mutual agreement was: here was a guy who had so much to offer, carries so much capacity to satisfy somebody's heart and thrill their life, but he acted as if he did not care to or deserve to be genuinely happy and fulfilled.

* * *

The instant he felt like a functioning human being again, Reid was at his computer following up on local legends, ghost stories and folklore that have taken place within the Cape Ann region. It was Rockport they'd initially researched, but Reid had gotten distracted by the countless spooky tales across the state. He always found that kind of stuff interesting. He knew he was getting completely off track, but all he was able to find on Rockport was the same one story about an abandoned part of town that had become overrun by feral dogs and women accused of witchcraft.

Sure, it had captured his attention, but this was Massachusetts: a state saturated with a rich history of mass hysteria and persecution. Its soil drenched with the blood of the innocent and shaken by fear driven violence. Many of the women accused were pure of any involvement in black magic. The witch subject wasn't anything he hadn't seen a thousand times over.

It was about that time that he felt a stinging sensation in his face, started coughing, sneezed a couple of times and grabbed the nearest tissue to clean up with. He rubbed until his nose hurt, but that bothered him less than the grating ache deep inside his sinuses.

He sniffled, muttering "shit" as his blue eyes involuntarily watered.

"You're too sick to do homework but well enough to play on the computer. Interesting," a feminine voice interrupted from the ajar doorway as she peered in to check on him.

"I'm not playing. I was just looking something up. I really do feel like shit," he admitted, minimizing the desktop as he forgot about the machine.

The blonde woman held back the goose down filled comforter to allow Reid to crawl beneath it. She covered him back up and squished the soft material around him, cocooning him in to its cloud like softness.

"Get back into bed. You look horrible."

"Thanks," was his sarcastic response.

"Just rest, I'm going to bring you some soup after it cools a bit."

Reid nodded and let his hands creep beneath the covers to rest on his own bare chest. They felt like two hot irons and ice cubes all at once, but all he could do was try to relax into the fabric that surrounded him. Very few things can beat the feeling of falling into bed and snuggling into its warmth when your body is physically demanding it.

* * *

As Caleb schmoozed with Sarah, Kate and another girl from his class, Pogue—the loser—wandered off to get more drinks before the next round. It was a close game, but it ended with Baby Boy getting lucky when Pogue had accidentally sunk the eight-ball, sabotaging himself.

Tyler went to re-rack, squatted down and reached into the ball return to gather them up three at a time in each hand. He knew he had large hands. His feet matched in size. This was due to his six foot height. He wasn't sure if it was a blessing or a curse, just an observation. It didn't mean much to him, but he'd heard a few impressed expressions by girls about the implications that came with the stereotype. Not that he minded. They weren't wrong.

His attention diverted up to a considerably smaller hand decorated in a mix of dainty and statement rings as its fingers gingerly placed a stack of coins on the edge of the table. The action meaning to stake claim on the next game, paying ahead for her turn.

"No rush. Just whenever you're done kicking ass, we'd like to jump in on the next round if you don't mind. We're probably not as good as you, so we could use the practice."

An attractive brunette stood in front of him, playing with a handful of change. There was a light and airy laughter with her statement and a wide smile that revealed a set of white teeth and small but noticeable dimples. She didn't look especially familiar, but maybe he'd seen her around somewhere. It was hard to place as they were so many girls their age running around. He liked to think of that cheesy cliche, that if he'd seen someone as pretty as her he'd remember, but unfortunately that just wasn't the case.

"Yeah, definitely. My friend's on his way back, but we should be quick and then it's all yours."

She'd been comical and charming with her single sentence, while he'd been reserved and to the point. He gave himself internal shit for not being smoother like _she'd_ been, but her sudden and unexpected presence had taken him off guard. The pool table was mainly male dominated. It was a surprise to look up at a pretty face and long hair, aside from Pogue.

Tyler wasn't particularly thrilled about being booted off the table before he was finished, but he wasn't going to be rude about it. When Reid was in tow, they monopolized it all night and got away with it. Even though it may not be the courteous thing to do, they did it all the time and it generally became accepted as _theirs_. Except by Aaron Abbot, who always weaseled his way into competition with them. Reid loved a good pissing contest just as much and welcomed any opportunity to stick it to his favorite rival.

"You, equals awesome! Me, equals grateful. Ha! Sorry, that was super nerd-alert status, but thank you, I appreciate it," the bubbly stranger expressed gratitude in her quirky way.

Then she went back to join a couple of her buddies who were sitting around a nearby pub table, sharing a pitcher. At least one of them was of age for them to be openly drinking beer. The girl was the only female among their threesome. One of the two smiled at her in a beard stroking way, welcoming her back to the group. The other looked familiar. Tyler's eyebrows furrowed together as he tried to place the face. He didn't know him personally, but he definitely recognized him. Just a local guy who may have already graduated but still lived, worked and hung out in town, a townie.

Pogue came back, carefully balancing two drinks poured way too full and corn chips fresh from the deep frier. They were exactly the way they liked it; greasy and dripping in oil, absorbing into the red and white checkered parchment paper that lined the basket. Tyler took one of the sodas, spiked with whiskey Pogue carried in a concealed flask and thanked him.

"Alright," said Pogue, setting everything else on a nearby tabletop. "Ten bucks says you don't make a single ball on break."

"Well, ten bucks says I can and I will."

Tyler leaned over, positioned the cue stick at an angle, and broke the rack, setting the game into its start.

"You're striped," he said as he sunk a solid ball into the side pocket.

Pogue cursed, slipping a bill into Tyler's open palm. It disappeared down the back of his pants along with his wallet.

"Another ten if you can get that girl's name."

Pogue nodded in the direction behind them. Tyler turned, surprise on his face when the girl from earlier momentarily met his gaze, as if she'd been scanning the room for a familiar face and happened to catch him at the right time.

"Thanks for that awkward eye contact, Pogue. She caught me in a full head turn. She probably thinks I'm a creeper now."

"Not my fault your subtlety is for shit," laughed Pogue. "I saw you talking to her earlier. Well, more like _she_ was talking to _you_. You were kind of just standing there being weird."

Tyler narrowed his blue eyes as if he was going to glare Pogue to death, thinking _asshole_ in his head.

"Name is too easy," said Tyler, trying to talk himself smoother than Pogue gave him credit for. He wouldn't be winning awards for public speaking any time soon, but he wasn't completely inept at conversation. "I could get her number too."

"Little brother, if you can do that I'll make it twenty," Pogue challenged as he laid a twenty on the table.

Tyler finished his drink quickly and started for his destination, hoping the Jack part of his Coke would seep into his brain, giving him a bold and fearless high. Pogue cleared his throat of the last bit of his own drink and followed at a discreet distance.

It couldn't hurt to mingle.

* * *

The bedspread alternated between being his best friend and worst enemy as the chills came in waves like it always does, threatening to swallow him whole. He wondered how the hell he was sweating and freezing at the same time. Reid kept his eyes closed as his teeth were involuntarily pressed close together to subdue their chattering.

He lay there in fragments that would need to gather together before he could feel whole again. He was just drifting off to sleep when a horrible ringing sliced through his throbbing skull like a knife through butter. At first, he covered his ears with the pillows to drown it out, but he recognized the ringtone. It almost felt like a dream when he opened his eyes and went to answer, but he knew he was awake when his friend greeted him on the other end.

"What are you doing?"

They were too close to bother with things as formal as introductions. They always came storming into conversations as if they had just been in the middle of one.

"Just dying in my room alone, watching Breaking Bad in between consciousness."

He'd gone to recooperate in the comfort of his own bed where his mom would be home for the weekend due to a local charity event and there to care for him with hot toddies and homemade Zuppa. He barely survived the stereotypes of growing up with an Irish father and an Italian mother, but both sides came with its perks. Their incredible comfort food was one of them.

"Sounds... _cool_ ," said Tyler, trying to sound as jovial and upbeat as possible. "How you feeling?"

"Like total shit for the thousandth time—" Reid paused as a bout of coughs interrupted his speech. "And I probably have pneumonia." After the attack subsided, his voice came out hoarse.

"So... you're definitely not up to coming out tonight then?"

"Not unless I want to wind up in the ER."

"Okay, just thought I'd ask so you didn't feel left out later. Sorry, I'll let you get some rest." Tyler went to end the call, but Reid's prying nature and curiosity stopped him.

"Left out of what? You guys just went to Nicky's."

On Facebook he'd seen everybody's—minus Caleb's— names tagged in Sarah's check-in along with the cute picture she posted of herself and a pretty, pouting Kate.

"Yeah, that _was_ originally the plan, but we met a couple people from the public. They invited us to an IHS house party."

As in, Ipswich High School.

"You little shit. You infect me with your _disease_ and then go rage without me?! And now you call to tell me about it when you know I can't go..."

Reid really hated being excluded from things based on factors he couldn't control. They all knew this about him from way back in their childhood days. He used to try not to show that it bothered him, but he always had a shit poker face and tendency to speak his mind, especially when upset. Impulsivity and recklessness—two traits that Reid personified—are usually driven by emotion, which he wore more transparently than he liked to admit. It was a weakness and he hated that he let trivial things bother him, but they did.

"Yes Reid, that's exactly it. We all snuck around for weeks in cahoots, planning a chain of events that would lead us to this exact moment just so we could go to _one_ party without you." Tyler's sarcastic tongue didn't stop there. Baby Boy must've been a few drinks in for his balls to have descended. "I even went down to Atlanta to create a new strain of virus from the CDC just for you, my friend. I named it Poxvi **reid** ae."

Reid didn't speak right away because he wasn't mentally up for stringing together a witty retort to put his younger brother back in his place, though he badly wanted to. Honestly though, he was a little impressed because that was just the kind of remark he'd normally make himself, minus the nerd scientific reference in Latin.

Instead, Reid responded, "Whatever. Take your dad jokes and your bad attitude and go. Ain't no party without me anyway. It's just a meeting."

"Well good, then you won't be missing anything," he ended the call before Reid could reply.

Tyler's cell phone immediately went off. It was a text from Reid; more bitter than a shot of espresso. It read, "Make sure no one has fun without me."

Tyler chuckled at his friend's typical behavior and went to slip his phone back into his pocket when it vibrated again. The sickness really didn't take _that_ much out of him. Reid was still Reid. He always would be, and somehow that was just as much a comforting thought as it was scary. A second message appeared in their conversation, Reid adding to his previous statement.

"And make sure they all know it's because I'm not there."

* * *

She glanced past her reflection in the rear view mirror at the Hummer following a few car lengths behind. When they collectively rolled to a stop at a traffic light, she signaled for them to turn right on Argilla.

Though she was endowed with an outgoing personality and the gift of gab, she was surprised how easy it was to befriend this group.

Once she was able to make a connection with Kate and Sarah over where they bought their shoes and got their nails done, Caleb somewhat relaxed with them. It was clear he still had his reservations though. The role of eldest fit him like a glove. He was the protector and keeper of his little "family". He made sure no one messed with them. Now, _there_ was something they had in common. It really didn't bother her whether or not she got his approval. She only had to win over one of them. It might take a bit of time, but it would be worthwhile. Besides, she was ahead of the game.

Who needed to rely on chance encounters when you could mastermind the meeting you wanted?

* * *

 **Author's Note: Thank you for the faves/follows! Review please! It would just make my day!**


	3. A Crack in the Shell

**Moonspell**

 **Rating 》 T-M for Profanity, Adult Situations, Violence and Sexual Content**

 **Pairing** **》 Major Reid/OC & Minor Tyler/OC**

 **Disclaimer 》 Fandoms, canons, music, references and source material are not mine, but this plot is. No monetary profit made.**

 **Author's Note 》 For fanart, fanmixes and fanvids, go to hapadoll,wixsite,com** **/hapadoll (replace , with . )**

* * *

 **3\. A Crack in the Shell**

* * *

They were all roommates and one of them was having a small party with some college and high school friends, so they were going to their house and then stopped to get ice and something to drink. No alcohol, there was plenty of that back at their place. Plus the convenience store was about to stop selling at the top of the hour due to state liquor laws.

The two eldest Sons stayed outside while everyone else went in. It was cold out so they sat in the car with the heat on. Caleb is actually just sizing their new _friends_ up at this point. He felt he was depended on by the others, as the eldest to be the "man of the house"; the protector and keeper of their little family. It wasn't necessarily that he didn't like new people coming in to their group, it was that he didn't immediately trust everyone anymore. He has to put his guard up for a while, because of Chase.

Pogue's hanging back with him, trying to get down who's who for the third time. He was never good with names anyway. Ironic as his own was usually the most unusual of the bunch.

"What's his name again?"

"Troy."

"Nah, I finally got his name down. He's the one who's our age. It's the older one I keep getting wrong—Morgan's brother."

"Cousin," Caleb corrects him. "His name is Cassius, like the Roman general. And he's only a couple years older."

"Ah, that's right. I've been calling him Caspian. Like the sea."

Caleb basically gives warning to Pogue that he needs to be more observant of those he places his trust in because not everyone can be trusted, considering how many signs went completely over their heads with Chase.

"I understand, Caleb. Believe me, I do. If anything, _I_ was the most wary about Chase in the beginning, but not everyone's him. There's no sixth family, no other bloodline we don't know about. I don't think we're due for any more surprises."

Caleb chuckles in his throat, choking a little. His dark eyes fold shut, just imagining the muscles in his neck loosening up like a knotted cord being unraveled. Soon, the relaxation moves into his chin and jaws and he feels a bit better.

"To be fair, you were only wary of him because you didn't like him flirting with your girl."

"Fair enough," Pogue laughs. He wasn't wrong. He doesn't take kindly to someone trying to take what's his, what they have no right to. "Cassius and Troy haven't hit on Kate once so far, so I don't have a reason to dislike them yet, but I'll stay frosty. Just don't let fear keep you from living your life. We're going to be in college next year and we can't live as shut-ins away from the world."

There's a point to his words and Caleb knows it, but before he can respond, a lone Cass saunters out, appearing before them in a disorderly flurry. Caleb rolls the window all the way down as the older boy approaches his window. The cold rushes in immediately to invade the car and fill it with chilly drafts. Pogue turns the heater up to its highest setting to combat the cold.

"Let's see," Cass trails, digging through the plastic bag hanging on his arm. "I have water, a few donuts and pastries, some chips—I didn't know what flavors you guys liked so I just grabbed random ones—hot dogs, perogies, sweet bread… oh and some fresh fruit too, just in case you needed it. Bananas are awesome for hangovers."

It was going to be an uncomfortable moment, but Caleb was going to have to stand his ground and tell the older boy that he had absolutely no plans to get drunk with him. Not until he knew him better at least.

"Thanks for thinking of us, man," he says, genuinely impressed at his thoughtfulness. "But we don't really plan to drink that heavily tonight."

From the wry, glittering smirk on Cass's tan face full of dark stubble, it's quite clear that he's not at all offended, but he also doesn't believe him for one moment.

"Isn't that what we all say? Never again, right?"

He chortles before biting into his glazed donut, still warm from heating it up in the store's microwave. The handsome young man strolls back to his modest silver Corolla, stealing Morgan's spot in the driver's seat and waits for the others there.

Caleb didn't like that. That doubt in his tone. He obviously doesn't know him well enough if he believes him to be the type that sways on his own word and basic principles, gives in to peer pressure or is easily influenced by his environment. Even Pogue asked what was up with that and made a remark to that effect.

Caleb said he wasn't getting drunk and he wasn't. Period. Getting obliterated with your buddies was fun on occassion, but it wasn't the right time or place for that. He'd been sober as a judge all night. Why judges should be equated with sobriety is unknown to him, but he couldn't be more clear-headed at the moment. Nothing wrong with one or two drinks, maybe get a nice little buzz going, but it sounded like everyone else was planning on going hard, even Sarah. _Someone_ needed to parent while the children had their fun and he was fine to take that role.

Pogue and Tyler were already three or four drinks deep from the flask they snuck into Nicky's anyway, so he had no expectations that they'd stop there. And why should they? He truly wanted them to have fun, he just wanted them to be safe, but perhaps it was the liquor that made them so willing to follow complete strangers to a party without hesitation.

Except for that last thing Cass said, they did appear to be extremely cool people from the little they've spoken. The type of people you want to hate, but you can't because there's no malice in them, which he hoped was the case. In all honesty, Caleb hated having to be the hard-ass all the time. He loved being everybody's friend; a pacificator in quarrels, the most sensible, the best natured, the best informed, the most unassuming and modest young man anybody knew.

The sound of the girl's laughter brings him out of thought and brings something rare into the dark night; it's a butterfly-joy: transient, fluttering, but beautiful. The girls, one beautiful blonde in particular that he's got his eyes fixed on gradually make their way towards them, save for Morgan who waves to himself and Pogue good-naturedly before splitting off with Troy.

Their girls, along with Tyler, all climb into the backseat of the Hummer with their bags. Sarah, as the smallest at five foot three is forced into the middle by the other two. With the back doors open, they can clearly hear Morgan and Troy being loud and rambunctious with each other, still walking towards their car.

Both Caleb and Pogue laugh at the last audible thing that Troy says, presumably showing his purchases to his friends, "Mountain Dew and Red Man Chew. How redneck of me, I know."

* * *

The alcohol put him to bed like a baby where he slept so deeply that he never moved in his sleep and woke in the same position. Spread out in every direction; shirt riding up—half unbuttoned, the fly of his pants undone to a half-way point, and his dirty sneakers on the end table. It took a few minutes to rub life back into his numbed limbs.

His new friend, Morgan, is calling to him from the attached kitchen, asking how he's feeling. The pretty brunette flits around the island countertop full of life and energy as if filled with light, floating on a little cloud while he feels more akin to Lazarus recovering from death.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

"We were taking shots and then smiling with limes in our mouths."

Those first few shots they all took together as a group had opened the floodgates. The seal had been broken. After that, he went solo and threw them back in rapid succession like it was last call on a Wednesday night in college. Then he got a little rowdy, but not in an aggressive or belligerent way. More _amusing_ than anything else.

It wasn't long after that he went to "lay down for a second" which turned into him passed out face down on a beat-up corduroy couch that smelled of cigarettes, aftershave and dog which was strange now that he thought of it because it didn't appear they owned one.

"That's probably a good stopping point."

"Please don't tell me any embarassing stories. I'd rather be blissfully unaware. Also, I apologize if I did anything stupid or broke something."

"Nothing valuable," she shrugs, cleaning up a bit, leaving the kitchen. "Just the empty bottle of Tequila after you chugged the last of it and threw it up in the air, saying 'mic drop'."

He groans and announces that he'll never drink again. Yeah, right. She doesn't know him that well yet and even she gives him a month, tops.

Tyler runs a hand through his disheveled hair, fingering the dark waves like a makeshift comb in an attempt to look a little presentable as she approaches.

"If it helps, I know I got really, really drunk. Like stumbling woo-girl drunk, which doesn't happen often, so I guess we were all in rare form."

Morgan offers him a glass of ice cold water with cubes bobbing in it and two pills of aspirin, a small plate in the other hand.

In the movement of reaching to accept the drink, his shirt shifts enough to reveal a previously hidden view of his body. Morgan's hazel eyes follow the movement, coming to rest on his chest, visible where the garment hung loose. The fact that he was such a cute little thing was not lost on her.

Before he can back out of it, she reaches out and unabashedly touches the expanse of his chest, letting her fingertips gently trace every ridge of collarbone and muscle there. The muscles feel like they were carved out of marble while his skin is as soft and smooth as she wished her own could be.

He falters, caught off guard by the forwardness of the move. Whatever confidence he had in himself oozes out like sand through a sieve. He's completely unprepared to handle that level of unexpected physical contact. It's like she knows it too, and she seems _amused_ by it because she only continues tickling her way across his chest and down his stomach to faintly brush over his well-grooved abs. All with the faintest impression of a smirk on her lips.

"I have to admit, I'm a little jealous."

Her words confuse him. When he does speak, his voice betrays him: as raw and frail and vulnerable as he now feels. There's a click in his throat that makes him miserably uncomfortable under her intense gaze.

"Of what?"

"You have the softest, smoothest skin. Hardly any body hair at all. It's not fair, really. Us girls spend a fortune on waxing."

He's far too embarrassed and hungover to say anything else to her at the moment, so he just nods and forces a shy but attractive smile. It was his hope she'd have mercy on him in his awkwardness; stop torturing him. Maybe give him a second to compose himself and wake up all the way.

She does, after she sets the plate she's been holding down to the table and pushes it towards him. His stomach does a happy little flip. He's still mortified and all his body cares about is the sweet pastry in front of him. Then with one last lingering glance and a half smile of invitation, she exits to the balcony for a smoke despite the frigid outdoor temperature. When she's on the other side of the sliding door, he quickly buttons and zips up, not watching and not caring if he caught himself in his zipper.

A soft giggling from the corner makes him jump. Kate. Kate's giggling in the corner like the scary little girl in that exorcism movie. What a creep. Only she would decide to wake up just in time to give him crap. Typical.

"That was so awkward."

"Give me a break. I'm not used to girls being that bold with me."

"Awkward for _me_. I mean, seriously, get a room."

"No, no, nothing like that happened," Tyler insists, a slight blush in his cheeks when he realizes what it looks like.

Kate gives him one of those quizzical, "mom" looks that has him squirming like a worm in a bird's beak. Really, just to give him a hard time and worsen the boy's obvious discomfort. She knows nothing happened; even in Tyler's drunkest state he would never impose himself on a girl inappropriately. If anything, after getting to know Morgan a little, a more likely scenario would be her taking advantage of Baby Boy.

"I remember getting the spins and going to lay down," he elaborates. "Drunk me was just trying to get comfortable and I must have passed out mid-undress. Thank God I stopped there. Besides, I would never do anything like that with you guys in the room."

He wasn't Reid. Nothing quite compares to being stuck in a dorm room the size of a closet while your shithead roommate bones' someone.

The dark skinned beauty settles herself into a more seated position, mindful to not disturb her sleeping boyfriend on the other end of the sectional. Pogue's chest is steadily moving up and down under his big sweater, and he has a content expression on his face. She gathers the throw blanket and wraps herself up into a protective ball. Her thin arms are securely around her knees and she gestures towards a direction with her chin.

"I threw up on Pogue. That's why he's wearing that sweater."

It was the way Kate said it that made it as funny as hell. So casual, so nonchalant. Tyler dissolves into laughter like a playful masochist. Because while it makes his head ache a thousand times worse, the image of Pogue's reaction—likely leaping away in fear, is too great to ignore. The guy _could not_ handle vomit. Not the sight of it, the smell, or the sound of the gagging. He must really love that girl.

"I like them," Kate says, eyes looking around in thought. "Troy's hilarious. Morgan's a little... on the dominant side, but mostly sweet. And Cassius literally gave Pogue the shirt off his back."

Tyler is not one to be a pessimist, though he can't help but state the obvious, "Well he does live here. He's got some to spare."

Kate rolls her eyes and responds with, "It was still a nice gesture." She swings her jean clad legs over the edge to get up. "I need to find my phone. I want to call Sarah to make sure she and Caleb got home safe and see when he wants to pick us up."

Everyone got pretty heavily intoxicated, just as Caleb expected. The plan was that he'd be the designated driver which wasn't a big deal since most of them would have gotten dropped off at the dorms. But Sarah had gotten sick; pukey sick early on so they decided to call it a night prematurely. After a much too long drunken discussion between the group on the logistics of what they wanted to do, Cass offered for the others to crash at his place if they wanted to stay and party, which they did. If Pogue, Tyler and Kate felt comfortable enough to do that, he let it be their call.

At that moment Morgan walks back in from the balcony. She doesn't immediately look at him, she's busy fighting to close the sliding door. The chivalry ingrained in him from his upbringing automatically gets him up to help but _he's_ too busy gazing at her to be much help. Up close in the daylight, he's in awe of how amazing she looks even in the morning. Her dark hair falls across her face at just the right angle, flowing down to the middle of her back, all tousled and wavy from sleep, lit up like molten bronze in the morning glow. Her fair skin rosy and flush from the cold.

"It's okay," she flashes a smile and her dimples pop into view. "I got it."

She's obviously familiarized herself with the house's idiosyncrasies because a lift and jiggle of the handle gets the door to close properly.

"Always have to get creative with these old houses," she jokes.

"Hey, if it works... So where's your room?"

Morgan's got a shit-eating grin on her face the very second he asks this, making him regret his choice of words. The gears in her spunky little head are turning, he can see it, and he's fucking positive she's about to say something to embarass the hell out of him _again_.

"Why? Trying to get me alone to have your way with me?"

As he stammers, embarrassed and unintelligible, she interrupts with a straight answer this time.

"You're actually in it. I'm just crashing on Cass's couch while I finish up the school year in Ipswich."

Tyler sighs, defeated. She clearly enjoys messing with him. He's not sure if he's annoyed or attracted or a bit of both. This fucking girl will be the death of him, figuratively if not literally.

* * *

They ran together for at least an hour every day, rain or shine. It was their little routine.

As Morgan runs the path through the woods for the third time, all she can see is the shape of Cass in his perfect form jumping over roots and avoiding low branches like a bulldozer plowing over obstacles due to his inertia. She follows whatever he does, mimicking his movements as best she can, because he is faster, stronger, and more agile than any person could ever hope to be, even with snow on the ground.

It's that magical time of day just in between daylight and darkness, where the sun gets soft and hazy and the world begins winding down. Dusk... dusk is a nice word. The first few beams of moonlight stream through the breaks in the clouds. Already a few pale stars are shining in the sky above them. The air is cold, turning their breaths to ghostly white mist with every exhale. She loves it, almost as much as he does. The cool night air flowing through your hair, the feeling of running free in the open air with no cares in the world, where you experience the freedom and oneness that is your true nature. Not much beats it.

He gives her one last look—adrenalized, challenging, inscrutable—daring her to keep up. He's pushing her to her limit while he exceeds his. Then he starts sprinting through the snow at full speed, kicking up puffs of powder.

There's a steep rise leading up to a cliff at the edge of the woods. He keeps running against gravity, not letting up on speed, not even when his heart rate increases significantly and his lungs feel like they're going to explode. At the top he waits for his fairer and smaller cousin, whom he lost at the incline. Her body weight, though slim holds her back, but she joins him a few moments later, leaning into her knees, breathless when she summits.

"I almost had you."

No, she didn't. And they both know it. He makes sure to say something to that effect. Couldn't let her have that. He was too honest in his remarks.

"Of course you did, babe."

"The weaker you are the louder you bark."

He patronized her and she chastised him. They were the perfect counterparts of each other; different in ways while providing a sense of completeness when they are joined. Their bigger similarities were in their looks. Although she favored her mother's side in overall facial features and bone structure, Morgan and Cass shared the Connor colloring: dark hair, medium skin tone and hazel eyes. His being on the lighter end of the spectrum than hers.

"Next time you'll do better," he nods confidently at his own words, like he has some faith in her. "You always do."

Morgan rolls her eyes and nudges him in the side with her elbow, gaining a little laugh from him. They're side by side now, standing on the cliff's edge overlooking a small section of the forest. A fresh layer of snow lays on birch bough and bare tree limb, giving the feeling of a great wide clean world. The trees and brush surrounding them exude a nutty, musky aroma. "Mother Nature's perfume," her cousin calls it. A smell which, like hickory wood smoke, reminds her of their grandparent's house.

She stands with arms akimbo, her long-fingered hands—nails painted red and miraculously unchipped—resting on the high-rise waistband of a fleece lined yoga pant striped black and gray, which she wore with an old highnecked wind jacket. One she never did like the color of but never bothered to replace. It's unbelievable how pricey activewear is.

She enjoys the silence, the calm, the lack of electronic devices and the warmth of relaxation just as much as curling up with a good murder mystery and a cup of Nana's cider hot chocolate in front of the fireplace on a rainy evening, but Cass decides to ruin the serenity with his voice.

"Take your time, but know that you don't have to do this."

In the moment his words are out of context, but she knows exactly to what he's referring because it's all they've talked about for months. She stares for a moment in disbelief, trying to read his eyes. He admits he could have chosen different words, maybe less abrupt, but he is standing by what he said. It's something she's always hated about him; the fact that he never backs down or sees where he might be wrong. Typical annoying alpha mentality. He would say she's far too sensitive, emotional and all those other words that offends females.

Maybe she should be touched by his concern, but all it did was irritate her. Unknowingly he had poked the sore spot she had been avoiding, even in her thoughts. She doubted herself for many reasons she would never admit to out loud and apparently she wasn't the only one. He clearly didn't believe in her capability or trust that she could succeed.

"I do," she ground her teeth in vexation, a lifelong habit that probably contributed to the square jaw she wasn't particularly fond of.

Instantly, she's counting off all the proactive steps they've taken so far, as if he needed a recap. He didn't, but he humored her, allowing her to get her rant out.

"What the _fuck_ , Cass?! We've spent _months_ planning! I moved out here to sleep on your nasty old couch, transferred in the middle of the year to a school full of strangers, plus we already involved Lucy and Troy. You don't abandon a plan a quarter of the way through! It's too late to pull out now."

The stereotypical male part of him wants to say "That's what she said" so bad but he has to hold it in and feign sweetness and understanding or she'd claw the shit out of his face in a heartbeat. In the same concept as snuggling a cat close so it can't get its full reach to you.

"Technically Lucy involved us," he reminds her. It was fact she couldn't dispute. "She was the one who first spotted the witches. And Troy doesn't know shit. He's too busy killing brain cells on a daily basis to have much time to be inquisitive. I'm just saying we can find another way to fix this that doesn't put you on the front line."

She knows Cass always takes leadership roles in everything, especially matters that concern his family. A part of her understands that it must feel weird for him to sit back behind the scenes without feeling guilty that he should be out doing more, but she insists there is no other way and in his heart he knows it too. All she wants is a little more credit to stand on her own two feet. There's enough self doubt in her own head, she doesn't need his adding to it.

He relents but she doesn't respond, so he grabs her shoulders and repeats himself, shaking her until she laughs. They never stayed mad at each other. Well, _he_ never stayed mad. His feelings never got hurt enough to remain upset, but holy shit, she could hold a grudge for a millennium sometimes. Libra women...

"So then, moving forward... how have things been going? The Simms kid seems to have taken quite the liking to you. You must have had fun with him, right?"

His head is bent as he examines her shoes. The left one is undone. He takes the initiative, tightening the laces for her. Cass rolls his eyes at how oblivious she can be, but she doesn't notice.

"We talk," Morgan shrugs, looking at her feet also.

"Don't be coy," he stands up, grinning. "You know you're cute. Guys fall over themselves to get to you."

"Not always true," she tells him. "I mean we have been talking a lot, which is good. Just about every day for the past few weeks now. We just haven't made plans because he says he's busy with school."

There's an unexpected look in his eyes, intrigue.

"What do you talk about?"

She stammers a second or two. Ironically, trying to find the words.

"Uh, everything," she brushes her hair up and away from her face. The pieces that fell apart from her ponytail. "From the most mundane things like the weather, our favorite colors or what we should eat for dinner. And some more serious stuff. We've talked about politics, religion, life and existence, our opinions on the world and how we live today."

"Well shit," he chortles, a cloud of white breath floats and disperses in front of their eyes. "That's probably deeper conversation than you and I have had."

"That isn't saying much. You're not exactly the caring and sharing, spill our guts type."

His expression reads, "What can I say?"

"I just think he's a little afraid of me," Morgan continues.

"It's probably that praying mantis vibe you give off. Fuck 'em then cut their head off."

She gives him a shove and calls him some name that sounds nasty enough. They share a laugh.

"But seriously Mac, this is why he's our boy. Simms is the chink in their armor, your best shot at getting in with them."

He proceeds to give her an analogy that makes her skin crawl: a graphic story about a barnacle that injects itself into a crab from a crack in its shell. It sends roots out, taking nutrients from the crab's bloodstream until it is able to wrap around the crab's eyestalks.

Not wanting to hear more, she cuts him off, accouncing that she's ready to go home and shower. Maybe later relax with a movie if they could agree on one. Cass actually wouldn't mind going to bed early. In all honesty, he's tired from that run. They still have the trek back out. Again, she's determined to beat him. He challenges her with one last remark before they begin the return.

"Last one back's a rotting crab with a parasite!"

* * *

The weeks fly by when you have so much to do. When you're consumed with individual and group projects, research papers, verbal presentations and observational testing. When you're beyond busy and before you know it, it's the weekend again. Unfortunately, it was only Thursday and still Reid was about to burst into a million scraps of human.

The three people he unfortunately ended up partnered with in Environmental Science were the typical anal, overachieving, annoying little brats who think they know all there is to know about any given topic. So matter-of-fact in their inconsequential details.

The subject to begin with was of very little interest to him so he was happy to hand over the reins while he coast on their coattails, but no. They expected him to contribute his share of work. They just nitpicked every fucking thing about it from start to finish, which was bullshit and a complete waste of time. He wanted his workload reduced by half, not mutiplied.

In their dorm after school, Reid had been venting to Tyler for about an hour in between more homework and additional research. He'd mutter pointless things about how he wanted his partners to go step on a landmine, play in traffic or fall in a hole. About midway through it, Tyler was starting to get irritated that he couldn't concentrate himself or retain a damn thing of his own work.

"Today sucked ass. Tomorrow will suck. This week is killing me. I need to get laid or get a drink, _pronto_. Let's hit up Nicky's for a bit."

It was time for a much needed break before he put a ten cent bullet between his eyes right then and there. It was tempting, but Nicky's sounded more appealing in the end.

"I really have to get this assignment done, Reid. It's due tomorrow."

Reid's already up, rummaging through his drawers to find something appropriate to wear out besides the sweats he's got on.

"Come on, Baby Boy, live a little. You're already three-fourths done. You could invite your _girlfriend_ ," he teases, drawing out the word like a child swearing for the first time. "That way you can talk in person until midnight instead of on the phone."

"She's not my girlfriend. We're just friends," he corrects his friend.

Doesn't he like her? He thinks about it for the first time. Slowly, he makes up his mind. While she's not his usual type personality wise, yes, he does like her. Her voice, her sense of self, her bravado, her humor. It intimidated him at first, but after talking to her for awhile, getting to know her a little better through conversation, it became clear to him that she actually was deeper and more profound than most of the girls he knew from Spencer. It was still a little too early to tell if he had legitimate _feelings_ for her, though.

"Fine, I'll see if she wants to come," Tyler caves. "Just let me finish this chapter first."

A few moments later, before Tyler could even wrap up chapter twenty-two like he requested, Reid's already dressed, throwing him a clean blue shirt and some black jeans with his belt still in the loops. He sighs but gives in with minimal complaint. He haphazardly tosses a chewed up pencil as a bookmark to keep his place before taking his things with him into the bathroom.

"Shut up, hurry up and get dressed," Reid says, sitting on the edge of his bed to put on socks and shoes. "And I suggest you fix your hair before I take you outside for the world to see you."

Funny coming from the guy who wore beanies twenty-four seven to avoid styling his own. Literally, there was a ratty old gray one on his head as he criticized him.

After fumbling with his contacts, Tyler steps back into the room with his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, mumbling a "How did you get ready so fast?" to his blond friend.

"Because I'm not a woman," Reid says simply. "Speaking of women, see if your girl has a hot friend."

"I'll see."

Surprisingly, Tyler is able to meticulously work the last bits of product into his hair without interruption. No Reid standing behind him, harassing him or hurrying him along. In his peripheral, he sees him on the desktop computer, a welcomed distraction he won't pull him from. He even gets to reapply some deodorant and try a little of the new cologne he's been waiting to crack open.

Satisfied with how he looks, Tyler replaces the comb in his pocket with his wallet, grabs his phone and keys. The main door is ajar with Reid in the doorway, taping something to the front side of it. It's an extremely basic looking sign, created in Paint and printed just minutes ago. There's a poor depiction of the two of them looking similar to stick figures drawn by gifted and autistic children at summer camp, a map of the building and a giant red arrow poiting towards the opposite direction of where they are headed. In bold, the words "GONE TO THE CAFETERIA. DO NOT LOOK FOR US!" appear in a lower portion of the illustration.

"The arrow is a decoy. I want to be left the fuck alone tonight."

Reid grumbles the last part and grabs one of his heavy overcoats, the navy one he favors, and hands a snickering Tyler his own black one on the way out.

* * *

 **Author's Note: This one's extra long. I hope it was worth the wait.**

 **And LOOK! I updated the Book Cover Photo. It's ten times more awesome now, right?**

 **Fun fact: I named Morgan after a local urban legend/haunted location known as Morgan's Corner. The entire area is super creepy at night. I grew up in a similar neighborhood on the other side of town. More populated, but still up in the mountains with its own spooky stories.**

 **So what do you guys think of Miss Connor so far? Shady little ho or no?**

 **Readers, followers and favers: TYSM for your continued interest! My reviewers: Hael2009, AliH1 and bjq, THANK YOU big time for taking the time to leave feedback! I appreciate it more than you know!**


End file.
